Love, Lust and Blood
by Lavanya Ray
Summary: My first DELENA fiction. Elena is offered a peculiar job in Magnolia by Damon Salvatore. But is another woman who lived in the manor, who had a weird resemblance to her. Would Elena find out what secret lies in the shadowy manor? Who is the man she sees walking around only at nights? Why is she feeling change in her body and mind? Damon X Elena X Stefan and OCs. slightly OOC.


**_Disclaimer: All characters used in this fiction are property of CW and LJSmith. the plot belongs to author._**

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**_Chapter: 1_**

The handsome Italianate manor was constructed strategically amidst a woodsy plain in the far west edge of the town, hidden entirely from the common population who were absolutely oblivious of the kind of opulence that was reflected in the manor. Only open space allowing the cooling breeze inside the Mercedes was the window beside her. Her companions preferred to keep it closed but she had courageously decided to ignore them because she found herself suffering from claustrophobia inside. Elena was staring at the luxurious verdant over the window, trying to contemplate what place the expensive metallic black sedan was ushering her into. Their car was trundling through a narrow path – probably constructed for the four-wheel drives only - surrounded by series of ancient looking trees she did not know names of. Their trunks were creating an unnerving optical illusion as she felt watchful around them. At a time, she swore she saw someone behind a grayish-brown boulder, camouflaged partially by the lichen growth upon its surface. She was still looking for the tall contour of the person hidden in the semi-darkness of the evening when the man seated in the front seat, her companion and escort, peered back.

"You should probably relax, Miss Gilbert. Our journey has ended. We will be inside the Magnolia in a couple of minutes from now." She cleared her throat and bent back in the comfortable leather seat, half closing her eyes.

It was a long journey, and after four hours she was feeling weary. As the car was ran over the concrete path, she made a feeble effort to soothe herself, and shut the panic off her mind. _It was just another job, _she thought to herself,_ a very different kind of job promising a handsome payment._ She was trying all the magic words she had in her pocket to convince herself how this new experience was going to change her life, as she did before accepting the offer, as she did while signing the contract, as she did while receiving her very first paycheck as she did and getting in the car this noon. _It was just another modeling contract for her._

Within three minutes, the outline of the manor emerged from behind the dark wood, spreading a sense of dread and anxiety through her systems. Perhaps she had made a mistake; perhaps it would have been a better idea to listen to Samuel, who vehemently opposed her decision from the moment she told him about it for the very first time. Perhaps this change she was longing for was not a change she was supposed to welcome. What was visible from the car she was seated in, the gloom view was offering no help at all to ease her. The only option left to her at the time was to be prepared for the imminent series of occurrences waiting for her.

From what Mrs. Rosemary Dallas told her about her employer and the people she was going to live and work with for the next couple of months, she already knew she had to face the kind of people she never really had any luck meeting in her life - the rich ones who never landed out in the common view except for being safely seated inside their long swanky cars. Apparently her new boss was internationally known — gifted and supposedly eccentric personality — and she was fortunate to achieve an opportunity to work with the man. Not to mention the amount of remuneration she was offered. In the inelegant silence in the car, she was doing her best to acknowledge the fact that she was blessed by someone far beyond her reach, yet she was antsy.

And there was the silence. The most awkward, somewhat indelible entity existing in the wood was the uncanny silence. She had noticed the silence since the time they crossed the high boundary walls of the property when the huge iron gates were opened for their car, and closed behind them once they were on their way in. The silence seemed so haunting that she was alarmed at once. By the time she saw the far-off silhouette of the manor, her senses awakened to an extent that she could hear the infinitesimal noises made by the insects and the nocturnal birds, those were coming to life after the sunset; the slightest change in the air once the darkness descended; the grunting of the motor along with the rasp sound made by the friction of the wheels of their car and the concrete path; even the subtle, incessant heartbeat of the two persons those who were escorting her. She was able to distinguish all the inhales and exhales, their occasional muted sighs, and the uncomfortable glances to her and the view outside the car. It was almost as they had an universe of their own inside one car where nothing was related to the outer world, yet everything was affected by it.

She glanced secretly at the two men in the front seat, like she did numerous times throughout the journey. The man behind the steering wheel had some fine grey lines playing on his moustache, dressed in a chauffeur uniform. The man could be of any age from forty to sixty, and never showed any interest towards her. He was to get his job done properly. Elena had made a mental note to strictly follow the man and his professional attitude during her stay in the Magnolia (she had thought it was a quite unusual name for a manor, but it did not seem any more unusual than the environment itself).

The other man, tall and scrawny man with very few hair in a formal midnight blue blazer, was the man who represented himself on behalf of Damon Salvatore, the man she signed in to work for. He introduced himself as Tommy Perkins, the assistant of Damon Salvatore, and stated his professional duties to her in their first meeting, in a manner that had slammed her unemployed status on her face rather harshly. A faint smirk was pasted permanently on his face, as though he was obliged to pity her and he intended her to remember that every time she faced him. Elena was trying to remember the last time she saw him smiling properly, but she didn't have any such memory with the man. Perhaps his smiles were not available for new models like her, who were uncertain, diffident, yet looking for a breakthrough.

"This might be the most opportune proposal you could ever be offered, and this proposal holds all those benefits you could use to change your current state of living." His eyes were roaming over the colorless walls and the dusty window panes of her small and shabby apartment while speaking. He had contacted her through Mrs. Dallas, a teacher in the art school she previously modeled for. She loved that job, although it was not enough to depend upon for a living. She had to work as a sales girl in a departmental store in the rest of her time. When a young girl had no degree or diplomas to brag about, only a graduation and her average looks, could get no better jobs than what she had. Modeling for the art students was not an ideal job, at least not according to her; her rough teenage years had brought her to one of the most respectable art schools of the metro she was living in then, for which she was thankful to one of her high school friends. At one point she realized she had gotten one of 'those' faces, the 'photogenic' ones, and so was her skinny appearance. She had never nurtured the ambition of shedding her clothes in the middle of a room full of strangers for art's sake though. It was after she met a young painter, a very special and skilled man of twenty three, enviously skilled in the art of manipulating one's emotions. She thought she was in love with him and after seven months she had found herself posing nude for some young aspiring students. That was an different experience altogether.

A lot of times students had asked her if she would let them paint a portrait of her, as a souvenir, or a gift sometimes when the student is a male of early twenties, but she had refused. It was a rule which she had restricted for herself - a veil of anonymity. She had thought several times of her dead parents, of their possible reaction if they were alive and she had told them of her parallel modeling career, her father's face while thinking of those times when she sat completely naked in her seat when the students drew her hands, her legs, her breasts, her half-turned profile, and she had felt ashamed of herself. Mrs. Dallas was always supporting, for she had a strong motherly instinct for all the young people she met and she had said her everything she needed to know before taking up the assignments. "The identities of the models are never revealed here, and you have nothing to worry about the safety. A lot of women do this kind of job for extra money, and they do not look anything compared to you. You will be paid on the basis of the period you will be needed here. Does that sound good to you?" That did sound good to her, undoubtedly.

The departmental store was better in a way, as nobody actually noticed her. She was practically an invisible soul there, like a gray ghost who neither received, nor expected any attention from the people alive around her, and the livings never disappointed her. What the art students found inspiring, ironically the common men had found as not so catchy. To be honest, Elena was glad; she enjoyed her invisible status more than anything else. Oblivious to her presence, people often used to chat, gossip, even argue around her, which were rather interesting than daytime TV. She was surprised when Tommy Perkins had spotted her in the store, near the aisle of baby foods when she was checking on the stocks and handing over her responsibilities to another young girl, the newest recruitment of the store. That was her last working day in that store, because she was fired the previous evening when she slapped the shift manager tightly on his face for groping her in an empty corner of the locker room. Perkins' requirement was so urgent that he had persuaded Mrs. Dallas to get her address, contact number and the other place she worked at in order to get a hold of her. "The name of Damon Salvatore needs no further persuasion," old Mrs. Dallas remarked when she met her to know more about the man.

"I would like you to think of the proposal very carefully before turning it down," he said in his third meeting when he almost ambushed her in her place. Elena did not question how he showed up there after the first two meetings; she had already learned of the filthy lucre and powers his boss acquired.

"What makes you think I will turn it down?" she asked indignantly crossing her arms in a defensive way against her chest. Her time of feeling awkward or nervous was gone all of a sudden, and she was starting to feel patronized by the man, even a little bullied.

"I am old and experienced enough to read the attitudes of a young girl such as yourself. However doubtful you are, I would suggest you to think rationally. I can imagine your earnings from your regular jobs and if you ask me, the best and logical decision would be to accept this offer. Only a couple of months and then you'd be able to pick up a lifestyle for yourself as you'd like." The offer was lucrative, and it definitely promised a drastic change in her pathetic life as Perkins said. Her disturbing life in foster care had led her to run away from them once she was eighteen, drop her studies and start to live on her own. Not ambitious at all, she thought but then again how could a beggar ever choose? With all the money she was offered, she had the possibility of resuming her studies, get a new apartment, and a social life, even though that was never her priority. She also had the possibility of visiting her parents' place someday, meet her old grandmother who lived alone, who gave her up for foster care because she was not capable of taking care of her only grandchild, and who was still living alone in a cottage near their parents' place. A tightness momentarily formed in her chest as she had driven away all her emotional expressions before facing Tommy Perkins.

The intimidating risk factors still harped in the air. The man, extremely annoying and irksome, could have been some agent employed in the human trafficking business, or porn industry. Or he could have been a psychopath who took special interests in young women who had no family with them, slaughtering them and trash their bodies in a place never to be found. She had decided to take more time to think, to talk to her best friend Samuel and Mrs. Dallas once again, to know more about the painter she had heard of for the first time in her life.

"Of course you may take your time, but you better come to a decision soon before Mr. Logan makes the decision to cancel the proposal. It is not polite to keep someone waiting, especially a person who has much to offer." There, his smirk had returned. Perhaps it was his professional effort to lighten up the situation, or convince her.

However, Elena's dislike for the man held no objection to the proposal after she did her part of digging, and Mrs. Dallas told her more about Logan's donations and dedications to their art school. After eighteen days, Perkins brought with him the legal contract along with the advance payment, and two days later, she was there on her way to Magnolia.

"Are you feeling cold, Miss. Gilbert?" Perkins asked, glancing at her.

"No, I am fine."

"I think I just saw you shivering," he said and concentrated on his wrist watch. "We are there. Once we are inside the house, you can get some rest."

Elena was watching the outlines of the stark white building over the woods. The building looked perfectly symmetrical, a palatial framework arresting her focus. The panic was back, lurching in her stomach, twisting and turning. Her hands were sweating despite the slight chill in the air, and her head was feeling heavy. A few minutes later their car stood in the front porch of the giant construction.

"So this is Magnolia?" She was staring inelegantly; the prospect of Perkins conversing with her, in any way, was building more panic and awkwardness in her. There was a hedge around the manor, enclosing it from the surrounding woods. As Perkins helped her shambling out the car, holding the door open for her, she could not help but recall her life only twenty four hours back. The driver remained there, waiting for his next set of instructions while a servant man clad in a white uniform showed up in the porch, whisking down his way towards the back side of the car to get her belongings.

"Oh no no no," she spoke out loudly and shaking her head. "I will get them myself. Please don't bother." There was just one old suitcase and a bag she had brought apart from her handbag; she was perfectly capable of carrying them herself. The servant showed no sign of responding to her and proceeded doing his work. Perkins stopped her by touching her elbow – lightly - as if holding a feather in his hands.

"You don't need to worry about them, Miss. Gilbert. They will be taken to your room."

"My room?" She squinted in the darkness.

"Of course. You are provided a room for your short stay in Magnolia and all your requirements during this period will be our responsibility. I clarified everything when you signed the contract I believe. Or did I miss them?" Perkins said morosely.

"Of course you did, maybe I missed it somehow," she uttered in a clear voice, noting surprisingly that her response was not as tremulous as her insides were. Her anxiety and excitement of a new job was now curiously overpowered by a strange sense of apprehension as she watched Perkins dismiss the driver by one heedless jerk of his hand, and the car moving out of her sight without making any noise. This was a place with an entirely different lifestyle and protocols. How was she going to cope with this environment? Were her manners appropriate for such a place? Her confidence was sinking deep down. Her timid steps were halted in the threshold of the manor; the pulse on her forehead nurtured one wild prospect of tearing the contract she had previously signed - fetch her things and simply run away from the mysterious ground at once. It was easy; she only needed to navigate her way through the gloomy maze, and after that, she'd become invisible again.

But the moment, the one decisive moment that could have changed her course, lead her life to a possibility at variance, had elapsed from her hand before she could realize. Perkins was ushering her through the lofty and heavy, crafted wooden double doors of Magnolia; she was following him helplessly, alone and completely defenseless. Just when Elena decided she had grown to hate Tommy Perkins overlooking the fact that he was not a psychopath, not involved in human trafficking or porn business, she spotted a feminine figure had emerged from the brightly lit interiors of the manor.

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_**A/N: I had no plans of posting new story, but it just happened. Please let me know if you like it.**_

_**Have a happy weekend.**_

_**XOXO Lavanya**_


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